


The Edge of Night

by doomitup



Category: Elder Scrolls Online
Genre: Angst, F/M, NSFW, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 16:53:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24140122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doomitup/pseuds/doomitup
Summary: Nandil Adorin longs for adventure and to hone his craft. When he sets out, however, he doesn't expect to befriend an Altmer with crazy, ambitious ideas and a Khajiit with a penchant for trouble. And he certainly doesn't intend on getting so involved with political matters! But when a friend is in danger, he finds a courage in him he didn't know existed.
Relationships: Queen Ayrenn/Original Character
Kudos: 2





	The Edge of Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [angel_of_iego](https://archiveofourown.org/users/angel_of_iego/gifts).



The grass crunched underfoot, the frost coat gleaming in the first traces of dawn. Not even the bubbling river could ease his anxieties that morning. Much had to be done before he could even think of stepping foot outside. So while his breakfast warmed on the fire, he went through each room with a checklist. Nothing of value -monetary or sentimental- remained as he had seen to it that they were buried by his favorite spot by the river. He could only pray to Auri-El that no determined thieves or travelers decided to go exploring. 

His pack laid at the ready, a silent reminder, as he savored his eggs and bread. Each bite felt an eternity, but even that couldn’t stop the first rays of sun. Finding no use in delaying any longer, he washed and dried his dishes, then put them in his pack. The last things to go in their proper spots. 

Nothing held him back now. 

It had been his decision to leave, but that didn’t make the burden any lighter. Childhood memories danced through the trees he passed. Scraped knees and berry-slick smiles brought a pang to his heart. 

Feed the Indrick. Pack the cart. Check the tethers. Lock the door. Hitch the Indrick. His movements required no thought, so his mind wandered through the most defining moment that imprinted upon the house. 

When his parents had announced on his eighteenth birthday that they had left their humble cottage to him along with the surrounding land, he couldn’t believe it. 

“ _ Where will you live, then? _ ” he had grinned. “ _ Off to elope and start a new life of riches and glory?” _

The smile on his mother’s face brought an ache to his throat no amount of swallowing could rid. “ _ No, my little fish, we are leaving for Summerset at the month’s end. The opportunities for my craft are better there _ .”

She didn’t have to tell him the real reason for the move. Even if his father believed the comfortable story she painted, Nandil read between the lines. Her eyes widened for a moment, unblinking as she awaited his response. 

His answering smile felt like a dagger to the heart. “ _ So I was right. A new life of riches for you.” _

“ _ A new life _ .”

Even now, his mother’s words stuck with him. When they had left, they left a generous amount of coin for him to live on if he so chose. Instead he saved it, adding to it throughout the past few years, all in preparation for this day. If his parents in their old age could find it in themselves to strike out, so could he. 

The son of a fisherman and a seamstress. If anyone could make a living by the work of their own two hands, it was him. Though he preferred the fresh air and the thrill of fishing, it would be remiss of him to ignore how much sewing and stitching knowledge came into use during his wild summers. A scar on his left calf served as testament to how useful his mother’s teachings had been. Too poor that year to afford a healer, she spoke quiet and strong of her techniques as she bound flesh back to flesh. Never would he forget. 

Nandil paused on the hill. The land would always be there to welcome him back, the waters would embrace him once more. That was for another day, however. Today was for adventures and proving his worth to the world. 

His Indrick gave a snort, jolting him out of his thoughts. A soft chuckle escaped him as he patted the beast on the neck. “You’re right, Asteria, we better get a move on before the sun beats us to the horizon.” 

Without another look, he climbed atop the saddle and began the trek to his next destination: Vulkhel Guard. 

The clip of hooves on stone almost put him back to sleep. With no way to protect his tools, though, sleep wouldn’t be an option for quite a few hours. 

He sang to himself to pass the time, growing weary of jumping at every bush rustle and tree creak. There would be bandits no matter where he went, granted, but what bad luck would it be to run into some within the first time to a big city. 

The hours slipped past as if time decided to wade through mud. Soon the sun beat down, causing his loose shirt to cling to him. Maybe it was his imagination, but his Indrick seemed to be trudging slower, as well. 

When he had enough of this, he tugged the reins, bringing the cart to a steady halt in front of a bridge. Nandil grimaced as his feet hit the ground. He dug through his pack, careful not to disturb the careful arrangement, and pulled out a map. By his estimation, he had been travelling for at least six hours. Given the fact Asteria hadn’t gone this far in her life, he was impressed by her resilience and thus decided it was high time for a break.

He stood for a few moments, studying the markings and trying to get a better feel of his surroundings. A long finger trailed down from his starting point to where he believed he stood now. 

Dawnbreak beckoned him, the slate buildings offering shade and the body of water offering an antidote from the sun. As small town it may be, but the peaceful stillness reminded him of what he had just left. 

“Who goes there?” rumbled a voice from behind him. Nandil flinched, almost dropping his map as he spun on his heel.

“Hello,” he mumbled, wincing at the ache in his throat. “I was wondering if I may let my Indrick drink from the water? I shouldn’t be more than a few minutes, if you please.” 

Upon realizing that he wasn’t a threat, the Altmer waved his hands. “Nonsense, my boy! I wouldn’t be a very hospitable mer if I let a weary traveler such as yourself go on your way without something to eat and drink for yourself! Come, hitch up your mount and join me for a late lunch!” 

Before he could either accept or decline, the male slipped inside his house. As soon as Nandil was satisfied that Asteria had gotten her fill of water, he tied her to the trunk of a tree and headed towards the front door. Despite the fact it had been left open for him, he still felt the need to knock his presence. 

“Come in, come in! We have plenty to share!” 

A large table spread with chicken and steamed vegetables and freshly baked bread laid before him. And to top it all off, a bottle of ruby red wine. Nandil didn’t have much of a taste for it, but his thirst killed any previous inclinations he may have had. 

By the fire, a woman in lavender skirts and a white apron stirred something in a pot, murmuring to a child he could only assume was their daughter. 

“I apologize for Elannie, she doesn’t often get visitors.”

“It is no trouble, I assure you,” Nandil smiled. The girl let out a delighted shriek before seating herself at the table. She slurped down her milk, the liquid dribbling down her chubby cheeks and onto her dress. 

“I’m Almion, by the by. You’ve met Elannie, and this is my brilliant, beautiful wife, Calia,” he introduced as he gestured for him to sit. 

As food was passed around and dished, he explained who he was and what his mission to explore the world would bring to his character. 

“Ah, yes, I remember when I was young and full of spitfire,” Almion sighed, his vision glazing with memories of more independent times. 

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, hush, you! You’re still young and since when have you lost any of that fire?” she teased before turning her gaze to Nandil. “Where are you off to?” 

A distant look clouded his face. “I’m not sure as of yet, ma’am. There’s a lot of land beyond our wondrous island and I scarcely know where to begin. Do I brave the dry heat of Elswheyr? I must admit, as fascinating as I am with the Valenwood, those who follow the Green Pact fill my heart with dread. I wouldn’t want to be caught stepping on the wrong leaf in those woods.” 

Almion swallowed a hearty amount of wine. “Tell you what, my boy! I have a cousin who lives in Woodheart -in Greenshade, you know? I will write to her immediately and tell her to expect you! She will know the ways of the Bosmeri and will be happy to provide you with lodgings until you find your footing.” 

“No! Not that I am ungrateful, of course,” he added quickly, “but that is too much, and I have no means to repay you or your family for what you’ve done for me already.” 

Calia set her fork down with a dull thud. “Don’t be ridiculous. It is up to us to decide how much we are able to give, and by Auri-El, we can afford to help a young man!” The following silence turned his full stomach into rubedite. Until Elannie giggled. Calia broke into a self-conscious grin. “My apologies. But, please, do not ever feel like help offered is something to fear. We all need help.”

He dipped his head in acknowledgment. “Too true, ma’am. I will keep that in mind on my travels.”

After a short battle decided just who would do the dishes and who would do the drying, Nandil felt content to continue on his journey. He waved goodbye, a crooked smile on his lips until Dawnbreak was miles behind him, and he thought to himself,  _ If I ever get a family of my own, I hope it is just as kind _ . 


End file.
